| niobium |
05-26-2008 11:37 PM |
To those for whom the word ‘converge’ is usually preceded by the words ‘mother-****ing!’ and shouted from breathless lungs as a furious pit swirls dangerously around them, the Webster’s definition of the term which reads “to come together from different directions so as to meet”, seems, at best, deficient. The denotation implies some form of unity; some advanced knowledge or foresight, not the urgent fiery carnage and whip-crack wailings that is the ferocious Converge; a fabled hardcore act originally from Salem, Massachusetts. “Circle pit right now!” screams bassist Nate Newton at an Austin, Texas Converge show at the Red 7 nightclub in April. The already battered hardcore kids happily oblige as lead singer Jacob Bannon wrenches a monitor from the front of the stage mid-verse and heaves it up onto his shoulder before thrusting it into the pit with utter abandon. Shrieking in blood-curdling alto, spit and bile stream down his face and onto the front of his captive audience, all awash in glorious fury, eyes alight as in a fever-dream. To an outsider, the scene couldn’t seem farther from a ‘coming together’, though perhaps when the world does end (it won’t look much different from this) the singleness of destruction at hand will suggest some unity. However, from a more academic standpoint, the band Converge represent a welcome trend in a hardcore community become too far removed from its artistic origins. The menacing cries and technical guitar-work expose a degree of thought that suggests a band ahead of its time while still heavily entrenched in the hardcore scene. As modern hardcore bands attempt to recapture the energy of the past by dumbing-down their music to rudimentary levels, it's comforting to know that bands like Converge still bring ingenuity to the sound of hardcore.
Guitarist Kurt Ballou stands solo on stage, apparently tuning his guitar and correcting the volume on the monitors. What starts as rudimentary noodling with his strings slowly segues into the opening riff of a No Heroes standout tune “Plagues” and the audience comes to the slow realization that they are no longer experiencing the sound check. As lead singer Jacob Bannon would state later in the night, “I’ve been in this band since I was thirteen years old! I’m 31 now. The numbers have reversed! It’s an anagram!” He's not kidding either -- Converge formed in 1990 and graduated to live shows in 1991 after some home-recorded demos. Converge has been a staple of the hardcore scene for approximately two decades now. With a sound derived from hardcore acts like Born Against and proto-metalcore like the astounding Starkweather, Converge’s blend of polyrhythmic drumming, intricate and distorted guitar-work, and the token Jacob Bannon shriek have given the band amorphous sound qualities which have "converged" multiple genres together. Mixing the noise-rock elements of bands like New York’s Rorschach, the hardcore tendencies of Detroit’s Negative Approach, and even the no-wave experiments of bands like New York’s Swans, Converge’s musical influences are as disparate as the band’s music.
“You’re at a hardcore show, you’re surrounded by friends!” barks Bannon mid-set in Texas, answering all questions as to where the band feels they fit into the musical spectrum. The air fills with stage divers as the band launches into “Eagles Become Vultures” from the experimentally-tinged You Fail Me. To define the band as merely ‘hardcore’ however almost cheapens the technical skill and virtuosity that each band member displays. While Bannon’s declaration of adherence to the hardcore scene represents his affinity with its unity, the progressive lengths Converge’s writing has taken remains leaps and bounds above simple three-chord punk acts. Since their first release, the underrated Halo in a Haystack, Jacob Bannon has exemplified the role an artist plays in hard rock music. Many of the greatest icons of rock and roll were art students, from John Lennon, to Mick Jagger, and finally, to punk legend John Lydon (otherwise known as Johnny Rotten). Since the origin of punk, some the best minds were art-school students turned musicians, thus it comes as no surprise to discover Jacob Bannon’s alternate life as an accomplished visual artist whose work is highly respected among art communities. All of Bannon’s work is done by hand and much of it has been displayed as part of the Converge canon in the form of cover art, T-shirts, or other items. The designs selling at the merch table in Austin looked to be the work of a mad graffiti artist rather than a proper screen-printer. His unique work could be seen on the sweat-stained clothing of moshing hardcore fans throughout the show
“Look at that!” screams Newton as he points to Ben Koller, the drummer who seems to be delivering blast beats at one-hundred miles per hour throughout the Converge rarity “Locust Reign” from their Deeper the Wound split EP with Hellchild. The technicality of the band on this song is reminiscent of early Converge recordings like Caring and Killing and Petitioning the Empty Sky. Of course, while the band was gaining notoriety in the underground, their brand of hardcore first became more known to the general public with the release of their album When Forever Comes Crashing and their concept album Jane Doe. The latter, a story of a devastating romantic breakup, instills a great sense despair and fury. Some consider the album to be the band's defining work. However, the band burst back into the hardcore scene with their follow-ups to Jane Doe, You Fail Me and a throwback hardcore album No Heroes. The latter, their most political and confrontational album to date, was lauded by metal giants such as Mastodon and Isis as being one of the best hardcore albums in years.
“This song is from Jane Doe”, spits Bannon, heaving with exhaustion at the end of the show. “And this song...” he says before pausing for emphasis and to allow the shouts of the crowd to die down “...is also called “Jane Doe”.
The band ends their set with their 12-minute epic, a testament to their technicality and rage all in one. Even as Bannon curls up into a ball in the middle of the stage, pulling his microphone close to his chest and writhing and shrieking like a dying animal, the crowd does not move but watches instead in awe. The guitar riffs, perhaps more at place in a shoegaze outfit, blend atypical guitar strumming and drum clicking for truly engaged experience. With the final shouts, Bannon lets his microphone drop to the ground and walks off stage, aloof, leaving his band mates to shake hands with the hardcore kids who rush the stage to congratulate the foursome on a fantastic show.
While much of music criticism seems focused on the popular aspects of modern music, the more ferocious and technical work of bands such as Converge deserve respect as well. There is a hidden thoughtfulness both in their lyrics and song structure despite the aggressive nature of their music, and while some may think the band sacrifices mass-appeal for speed or scene politics, Converge continues to produce exactly what they know they are good at. They may not be easy to approach for the average listener, but they most certainly push the limits and continue to define a particular hardcore sound that is distinctly their own.
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